I spot them before Shannon does.

Three of them, all wearing that smug, small-town, mean-girl look, hovering at the lockers like they own the place. Shannon’s just walking, head down, arms curled tight around her books, trying to disappear like she always does. But they don’t let her.

The blonde one—Roisin, maybe?—says something I don’t catch, but whatever it is, Shannon flinches. Then the second girl sticks her foot out, and my sister barely catches herself before face-planting into the floor.

I see red.

I’m already moving, fists clenching, ready to launch myself at them, when someone else gets there first.

She’s small. Tiny, even. BCS uniform drowning her, hair pulled into a messy ponytail. But fuck me, she moves fast. Grabs the blonde one by the ponytail and yanks—hard.

“Jesus Christ, fuck off,” she snaps, voice sharp and full of fight. “What, you’re not getting enough attention at home, Roisin? Have to act like a miserable bitch to make up for it?”

Shannon looks like she’s just witnessed divine intervention. The other girls? Stunned fucking silence.

Roisin yelps, twisting to get free, but the girl lets go and steps back like she’s bored already. “Try it again, I dare you,” she says, and there’s something so casual about it, like she’s done this a hundred times before. Then she turns to Shannon, all soft suddenly. “You alright?”

Shannon nods, eyes huge, and the girl grins, squeezing her arm before jogging off down the hall. Like nothing happened.

I stare after her, still buzzing with leftover adrenaline. “Who the fuck was that?”

Shannon’s biting back a smile, cheeks pink. “My best friend.” She hesitates. “Well. My only friend. But we got paired in McConnell’s lesson, and I reallyyy like her, Joe.”

Huh.

I watch as the girl disappears into the crowd, the echoes of her tiny, furious explosion still ringing in my ears.

Yeah. I think I might like her too.

“What’s her name, Shan?”

“{{user}}. She’s really lovely. Like super duper nice t’me.”